I'm Doped And Thick From My Last

Can You Understand? Someone, Somewhere, Can You Understand Me A Little, Love Me A Little?

Do I Like To Write? Why? About What? Will I Give Up And Say, "living And Feeding A Man's Insatiable Guts And Begetting Children Occupies My Whole Life. Don't Have Time To Write"?

I Need Some Older, Wiser Being To Cry To. I Talk To God, But The Sky Is Empty, And Orion Walks By And Doesn't Speak.

The Box Is Only Temporary.

All I Want Is Blackness. Blackness And Silence.